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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012130">Breathe in, breathe out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarandspace/pseuds/aconitum'>aconitum (sugarandspace)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety Attacks, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Nogitsune Trauma, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:06:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarandspace/pseuds/aconitum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates being cold. It brings back bad memories.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>309</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breathe in, breathe out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/gifts">sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>* Awkward wave * Hello, I'm new! I'm usually on my main account writing Shadowhunters fic but my recent Teen Wolf rewatch (and even more so my recent Sterek fic binge) inspired me to try writing for this fandom. </p>
<p>Special thanks to the lovely Em! Your kind words mean the world, and this fic wouldn't be what it is now without your encouragement 💙</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stiles curses Scott as he makes his way through the front door. The apartment is dark which means Derek must still be at work. Stiles is kind of glad about it because he’s sure he’s a laughable sight in his soaking wet clothes. He closes the door behind himself and doesn’t even bother to hang up his coat - it would only result in a puddle on the floor - and only takes his shoes and socks off before he heads to the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not only is he soaking, but he also stinks, and he can’t stop shivering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was supposed to be an easy case. Just a lone Kappa, Scott had said. They could take out a river monster with just the two of them, he had said. And Stiles has to admit that he had been right, they had been able to deal with it. They had just ended up in the river in the process. In the middle of December.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles is pretty sure his bones have a layer of frost around them, and a part of him is surprised to see that his toes are still functioning. Scott and his stupid werewolf body temperature had recovered from the dive a lot sooner than Stiles, and his best friend had looked genuinely worried when Stiles had gotten out of his car at the parking lot of his and Derek’s apartment building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it took a couple of tries for Stiles’ shaking hands to be able to open the car door, maybe not.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had insisted he’d be fine as soon as he was able to boil himself in the shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what he was planning on doing, and with shaky hands, he takes off his clothes and puts them straight into the washing machine. The stench of mud is unpleasant even to his nose, and he can’t even imagine how strong it would be to Derek’s supernatural senses. He presses the lid closed and plans to deal with it in the morning since he’s not going to risk getting noise complaints from his neighbors because he used the washing machine at 11 pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gets into the shower and stands under the spray of water, turning the temperature warmer and warmer until it's way past the point he usually uses. It should be scalding but the coldness is persistent, and it’s paired with a tight feeling in his chest that he doesn’t quite understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he understands the feeling, is intimately familiar with the feeling of pressure around your chest that’s caused by anxiety, but what he doesn’t understand is why the feeling is there. The evening went fine when you look at the big picture. Scott and he got away with minor aches that were going to pass in a day or two, and the monster was defeated. There was no reason for Stiles to feel that pressure that was making it harder to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubs the shampoo into his hair with more force than is necessary and does his best to ignore the feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles feels like he could stand under the water until Derek comes home and forcibly drags him out of there, but eventually he finds the willpower to turn the water off. He wraps a towel around himself and just stands in the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shower helped him warm up a little but some of the coldness lingers deep down, somewhere the shower couldn’t reach. He also knows that as soon as he opens the door and steps out, the warm cocoon of steam the shower had produced will leave him and he’ll feel cold again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, the thought of warm clothes and their soft bed motivates Stiles to move, and he speedwalks through the dark apartment into the bedroom, not bothering to turn the lights on as he rushes to the wardrobe and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that really belongs to Derek. If Derek comments on it, Stiles is going to blame the fact that he got dressed in the dim light provided by the streetlights behind their window, but in reality, he hopes that its comforting scent will ease the persistent anxiety that doesn’t seem to be leaving him anytime soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles rubs his hands up and down his arms, trying to generate some warmth. It’s quiet in the apartment, and as Stiles looks at the bed and thinks about going to sleep, he’s hit with a memory so strong it threatens to strangle him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quiet, the darkness, not being able to get warm and being all alone - these are all things he’s experienced before. Being so common, he’s probably experienced them more than once, but since one of the situations was vastly more traumatic than the others, his mind digs it up and throws Stiles back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back to when he was controlled by the nogitsune.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly the sight of the bed makes Stiles feel sick, going to sleep the last thing he wants to do. He rushes out of the room into the living room where he turns all the lights on before curling into a tight ball on the corner of the couch. He turns the television on just to have some background noise, so he doesn’t feel as alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he really wants is for Derek to be here, but he’s working late at the station and Stiles isn’t about to call him and make him worry. There’s no real threat here, nothing but stupid memories that shouldn’t even bother Stiles anymore. It’s been years since it happened, months since Stiles last had a nightmare. He should be over it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles presses his hands against his face and tries to focus on his breathing, knowing that a panic attack is not far. He has to remove the hands, however, when he realizes that not being able to see his surroundings is making it worse. It’s making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up and it’s making him feel like there’s someone behind him. His head whips up and he looks around himself, wary of all the possible hiding places in their apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows he can’t be alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at his phone on the coffee table where he had forgotten it when Scott came to pick him up. It was a good thing he did because if he hadn’t, the phone would either be at the bottom of a river or broken beyond fixing. He reaches for the phone with shaking hands and finds Derek’s contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's just going to call him to hear his voice, and to ask him how much longer until he’s coming home. Derek doesn’t need to know that Stiles needs him to come home right that second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes in a few deep breaths, breathing in the scent of Derek from the hoodie. He pulls the hood up so he’s even more surrounded by it, and tucks his freezing toes between the couch cushions. Once he thinks he’s as calm as he can be, he presses call and brings the phone to his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It rings a couple of times before Derek answers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Stiles,” he says, sounding happy. “Did everything go okay with Scott?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had texted him earlier, telling him what they were going to do. Derek had been sorry he wasn’t able to join them and had told Stiles that there was a lot of work at the station and that he might be staying until late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Stiles replies. “Everything went fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not a lie, at least not a full one. Falling to the river and the coldness that resulted might have been what brought all this on, but the monster-fighting went well all in all. It’s what came after that’s bothering Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is your voice shaking?” There’s a clear urgency in Derek’s voice but it’s the soft tone Stiles is used to hearing when they are alone. Stiles appreciates it so much and tries to focus on it instead of the panic still squeezing his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time the word is more urgent, and Stiles knows he has to respond, or else Derek will be at their door in fifteen minutes. Which might be what Stiles really wishes, but he doesn’t want to make his boyfriend worry, and he doesn't want to bother him while he’s working.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to worry,” he rushes out. “I’m home and I’m not hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t answer my question, Stiles,” Derek tells him, his tone a little more stern now. Stiles can hear noises from the background and a part of him regrets calling because he’s failed spectacularly in not making Derek worry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think I could come to the station?” Stiles asks, trying to salvage the situation. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t like the idea of you driving right now,” Derek tells him. “I’m coming home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m coming home,” Derek repeats. “I was almost done anyway. I can finish the rest of the work tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles feels bad for disturbing, but a bigger part of him feels relief knowing that Derek is going to come home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Stiles says. The word comes out in a relieved breath and he’s not sure if even Derek’s supernatural hearing is able to pick up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m leaving the station now,” Derek says. “I can put my phone on a speaker and stay on the phone with you if you need.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I want you to focus on driving,” Stiles says. “I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Stiles says. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive from the station to their building. He’ll be fine for fifteen minutes. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to thank me,” Derek says and Stiles can hear a car door close. “I love you and I’ll be home soon, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. I love you too,” Stiles says and ends the call. He holds the phone tightly in his hand as he’s fully alone again. The sounds from the television are doing close to nothing to mask the loneliness, and the paranoia is starting to creep back in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gets up from the couch and rushes to the corner of the room, sitting down with his back pressed to the wall firmly. This way he can see the whole room, and no one will be able to sneak behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hugs his arms around himself and wishes he could get warm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles focuses on his breathing, trying not to let it get too fast. His eyes scan the room from side to side, terrified that the next time he looks he’ll see a man wrapped in gauze standing in the corner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He startles when he hears the door to the apartment open, convinced that it can’t have been fifteen minutes already. But apparently it has since he sees Derek walk into the room, dressed in his uniform and looking frantic. It takes a moment for Derek to notice him on the floor, but when he does, he rushes to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles!” He says as he kneels on the floor in front of him. He looks Stiles over like he’s trying to find injuries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not hurt,” Stiles says and he knows Derek can hear that he’s telling the truth. Derek nods and pulls him into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles soaks up the comfort and warmth, the scent of Derek much more comforting in person. Derek's arms around him make him feel safe, and the pressure of anxiety clears up a little, making it a little easier to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Derek asks, but he makes no move to pull away and Stiles is grateful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad memories,” Stiles mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek doesn’t press further, but he pulls away from the hug and offers his hand for Stiles as he stands. Stiles lets him pull him up from the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are freezing,” Derek says and rubs at Stiles’ upper arms through the hoodie before pulling him into another hug, this one more comfortable since they are both standing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fell into a river earlier,” Stiles explains. “Can’t get warm. Brings back bad memories.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment but then Stiles can feel Derek tense up, and he guesses Derek understands just what memories Stiles means. He’s been there enough times after a nightmare to know that the feeling of coldness is almost always present in them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The nogitsune?” He asks quietly and Stiles gasps sharply, getting even closer to Derek and nodding against his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Derek says, holding Stiles tighter. “Let’s get you to bed, get you warmed up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Stiles says and his head whips up so fast he almost knocks it against Derek’s. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s shaking his head and he feels his breathing pick up. Derek must be able to hear how his heart speeds up because he’s quick to reassure Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to sleep,” he says, immediately knowing what the problem is. Derek knows that when Stiles gets like this, when the memories of the nogitsune and the darkness are strong in Stiles’ mind, he’s afraid of falling asleep. Whenever he wakes from a nightmare that’s half a dream and half a memory, the fear is so strong that it leaves no room for the logical side of Stiles’ brain to work. He knows that it’s been years since the nogitsune, and he knows that the spirit is safely locked away. But it doesn’t help when he’s feeling like all he needs to do is fall asleep and then he can’t know if he’ll truly be awake the next time he opens his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Promise?” Stiles asks and he holds Derek’s eyes as he waits for the answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise. I won’t let you fall asleep,” Derek says and Stiles trusts him. If Derek promises something Stiles knows he can count on it. “I just think it would be more comfortable. Easier to get you warmed up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Stiles agrees and pulls away, but he doesn’t get far before Derek is pulling him to his side as they walk to the bedroom together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek lets go of Stiles only long enough so he can turn the lights on and take off his uniform, and then holds the covers up and lets Stiles get in before crawling in behind him. Stiles is still wearing the sweatpants and the thick hoodie, but he can feel the heat coming from Derek who is holding him tight to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It helps, but it’s still too quiet in the apartment and Stiles keeps looking at the open door of their wardrobe. Realistically he knows that there’s no one hiding there but he’s unable to look away. He lets out a frustrated whine and turns around, Derek’s arms around him loosening just enough to let him move. Stiles situates himself against Derek’s chest and hides his head in his neck, his arms trapped between their bodies. Stiles feels bad for his cold fingers and nose coming to contact with Derek’s skin but he doesn’t seem to mind, and only pulls Stiles closer when he stops moving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should be over this,” Stiles says, wanting Derek to know that he doesn’t like to be bothering him with something that happened years ago. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have nothing to apologize for,” Derek says. He slips his hands underneath Stiles’ - well, technically his own - hoodie and Stiles lets out a shaky sigh at the warmth they bring against his naked back. “What you went through was traumatic. Something like that never truly leaves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles knows Derek talks from experience and so he doesn’t argue. Stiles knows that this is probably going to follow him for the rest of his life, and he appreciates that Derek isn’t trying to convince him that everything will be completely fine if he just gives it time. It won’t and it’s okay. It’s something Stiles, and something they can learn to live with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like they live with the nightmares that occasionally make Derek wake up soaked in sweat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stay under the covers, and Stiles can feel his heart calming down and his body warming up. As he listens to the steady beat of Derek’s heart and feels the coldness leaving his body, the memories retreat back to the far-away part of his brain that they’ve made their home. Some uneasiness remains, but Stiles knows it’s not there to stay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels so comfortable that he starts to doze off, but before he can fall asleep he feels Derek leave a kiss to the top of his head and his voice is deep and calm when he speaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he tells Stiles, and while Stiles appreciates that Derek remembers and keeps his promise, he’s ready to brush him off and tell him he’s okay now and it’s okay to let him sleep. He doesn’t have time to do it though before Derek is speaking again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on,” he says and pulls his hands away from Stiles’ back to gently nudge him. He scoots downwards on the bed so he can kiss Stiles’ lips softly and Stiles is helpless to resist. The kiss ends too soon when Derek is pulling away and getting out of bed. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Chamomile, because I know that caffeine keeps you awake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s-,” Stiles starts as he sits up on the bed and looks at the clock on the nightstand. “Two in the morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just some tea and something light to eat,” Derek says as he pulls some sweatpants on. “Come on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles follows Derek to the kitchen, turning the television off on his way there. When he gets to the kitchen Derek is already preparing sandwiches while the water is boiling in the kettle. Stiles takes out their favorite mugs and puts the teabags in them to wait for the water to finish boiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?” Derek asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looks at him and sees that Derek is still focused on the sandwiches, his tone light in a way that’s giving Stiles an easy out. It would be the easier choice, but it’s not what Stiles wants to choose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a Kappa in the river a little south from the town,” Stiles starts. The water finishes boiling and he keeps a part of his focus on the task of preparing the tea so that the memories won’t have his full attention. “We both ended up in the water, and I was freezing the whole time Scott drove me home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did he leave you alone?” Derek asks, his tone confused rather than accusing. From the corner of his eye, Stiles can see that his full focus has shifted from the sandwiches to Stiles. “Why didn’t he stay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I told him I was fine,” Stiles says as he takes the tea bags out of the water and brings them to the trash, focusing on staying detached from the memories. Forcing himself to focus on here and now so he can tell what happened without remembering it too vividly. “I thought I would be fine after a warm shower, but no matter how hot the water was, it wasn’t able to make me feel properly warm. I started feeling anxious and then all I could think about was how cold I was and how I was alone and then I couldn’t be sure if I really was alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his best efforts, Stiles is getting worked up again. It comes to a stop when he feels a steady hand on his shoulder, turning him around and pulling him against a solid chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really glad you called me,” Derek says as they sway a little where they stand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel bad for interrupting your work,” Stiles admits, even though he knows what Derek will say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be,” he says. “I can finish it tomorrow. You’re more important.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles absolutely does not blush at the words. That would be ridiculous, they’ve been together since Stiles came back to Beacon Hills for the summer after his second year in college. Such simple words aren’t enough to make him blush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except they are, and he’s unable to hide it when Derek pulls away enough to see his face. By the small smile he has on his face Stiles knows he noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” Derek says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Stiles replies. “I love you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then they are kissing, in their kitchen at two in the morning after a disastrous evening. Their lives are unusual, and they both have plenty of nightmare fuel from things that will follow them the rest of their lives, but they also have each other, and in that moment Stiles feels incredibly grateful for that. Things aren’t perfect, but they are pretty damn close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek is the one to pull away from the kiss first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on,” he says. “Let’s eat so we can sleep. It’s late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so now you care about what time it is,” Stiles says and rolls his eyes. “It didn’t bother you when I was cozy in bed about to fall asleep cuddled up to my personal heater.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek shrugs, “I made a promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles’ mind draws empty on witty comebacks so he goes to get their mugs and brings them to the table while Derek puts the sandwich ingredients in the fridge and brings their plates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides I know how cranky you get when you wake up hungry,” he says as he sits on the other side of the table, opposite Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Stiles protests and pokes his foot against Derek’s shin under the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not a lie,” Derek defends himself and starts to eat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles lifts the cup of tea to his lips with both hands and breathes in the warm steam, reveling in the warmth the cup brings and the feeling of safety that is brought by the person sitting on the other side of the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s going to be okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Rolls into a new fandom with 3,6k of hurt/comfort* </p>
<p>I hope you liked it! If you have time, I'd love to hear your thoughts!</p>
<p>I also have a <a href="https://sugarandspace.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> and a <a href="https://twitter.com/sugarandspace_">twitter</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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